


Meeting Mr. Fenton

by goldenwatcher



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death, Past Loki/Sif
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-12 02:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenwatcher/pseuds/goldenwatcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if William Fenton is Loki?  How will it go when they meet?  </p><p>This is a thing I wrote for plastic-cello's The Ballad of Tony and Loki series.  It takes place in the Fall of Tony Stark.  It's just an idea I had, but it made me cry, so I had to write it and gift it to plastic-cello.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meeting Mr. Fenton

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plastic_cello](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plastic_cello/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Fall of Tony Stark](https://archiveofourown.org/works/787867) by [plastic_cello](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plastic_cello/pseuds/plastic_cello). 



Tony was a technological genius. He had made poor decisions in his life, very bad, hideous decisions in some instances, and there were many that he regretted. He had also survived a plane crash, captivity, and months of torture, built himself a suit of metal, and saved his own life. He found his way out of a hostage situation, so why the hell couldn’t he find one damn shoe?

A knock on the door to the penthouse made him curse. “Tony, they’re here,” Pepper called.

“Yeah. I’ll be right out there, Pep,” he replied back, turning back to the closet. In doing so, he accidentally kicked his dresser. “Motherfu...” he cut himself off as he heard Pepper greet Gwen and William Fenton. He couldn’t make out the man’s voice, but Gwen’s warm laughter drew his attention away from the throbbing in his toes.

Tony sat down on the edge of the bed, running his hands through his hair as he settled himself. He hadn’t been able to find hide nor hair of Loki. Even in the man’s hometown, he still couldn’t find the guy. It was frustrating, and a part of him ached at the possibility that he’d never see him again. He scrubbed his face again. “Damn,” he muttered, then looked down.

“Oh.” Of course, there was his shoe, right in front of him. He bent down and picked it up, sliding it on.

“Wine would be lovely, thank you,” he heard a man say, and stilled. That voice sounded... that wasn’t possible. That just couldn’t be possible. He stared at the shoe, then forced himself to take another deep breath. He was probably imagining things. The desire to see Loki was making him hear the man’s voice, which he would recognize anywhere. He slowly stood and then moved to the door, peering out through the space.

Gwen was talking to Pepper in the far end of the penthouse as Pepper poured red wine into four glasses. Tony’s attention was drawn from them to the tall man studying the wall he’d destroyed. The raven hair was cut short, trim and professional and just barely brushing the collar of his blazer. He was still lithe, his face even more beautiful than Tony remembered. He peered at the hole Tony had made for Jarvis with an expression that was equal parts amusement and hesitation, both veiled. He turned as Gwen approached, handing him a glass of wine.

“Does Mr. Stark have a habit of taking sledgehammers to walls?” Loki asked, looking to Pepper.

She grinned lightly. “Ah, Tony’s a little... well... crazy.”

“Eccentric,” Tony interrupted, pushing the door open. He leaned against the doorframe, his eyes fixed on Loki. “I think they call it eccentric at my tax bracket.”

“Tony,” Pepper said, stepping forward with his glass. “This is William Fenton. Mr. Fenton, our very eccentric Tony Stark.”

“Yeah, we’ve met,” Tony said.

Everyone stilled. Gwen and Pepper looked back and forth between them, not understanding, but Loki looked as if he was a deer trapped in a car’s headlights. He had to have known that Tony would be there. He would have recognized the name. Then again, Tony had had every intention of heading back to Malibu as soon as Jarvis had been installed. If he had, Loki would never have had to run into him.

Tony scratched the corner of his nose and pushed up from the doorframe, taking his glass. “Thanks, Pep,” he said, wandering over to the wall. He gestured to the hole. “I needed the space. It’s unlikely that I’m going to break it in unless I have to do updates. Probably might want to leave some way of getting in there.”

Loki looked a bit confused. “Updates? For a security system?”

Tony snorted. “Jarvis is not just a security system. He’s an AI. Say hello, Jarvis.”

“Hello, Mr. Fenton, Ms. Stacy,” Jarvis replied, voice calm and cultured.

Loki looked up and around, startled. “AI? Artificial intelligence? But that’s...”

“Science fiction? Prove it.” When Loki looked at him blankly, he waved. “Ask him. Ask him anything.”

Loki looked unsure, studying Tony like he was a puzzle he couldn’t figure out. “Jarvis, then, is it?”

“Yes, Mr. Fenton,” Jarvis answered.

Loki cocked his head. “How many times has Mr. Stark been arrested?”

Tony winced. “Ouch.”

“Thirteen, sir.”

“Thirteen,” Loki drawled. “Impressive. And when was the last time he’s done drugs?”

“Two years, sir. Mr. Stark hasn’t consumed illegal substances since before his plane crashed in Libya.”

Loki blinked, apparently not having expected that answer.

“Jarvis, when was Loki Laufeyson’s last album produced?” Tony asked.

“According to information provided by his ex-manager, Phil Coulson, Mr. Laufeyson produced his last record in 1983 but refused to allow its release.”

Loki was staring at him, but then, so was Pepper. She turned her head and looked at Loki, really looked at him for a long moment. Loki turned his head and gazed back at her curiously. Pepper finally looked at Gwen.

“I have some appetizers in the kitchen. Would you mind giving me a hand?”

Gwen seemed absolutely bemused, but agreed to leave the tense situation. The finally look Pepper tossed at Loki could have sunk the Titanic three times over, but she said nothing and left the room.

Loki glanced at Tony. “Not such a frightened, pretty redhead now,” Tony mused. “Well, pretty and redheaded, sure, but she could cow any businessman at five hundred yards with nothing but her eyebrows.”

“You went back to her, then?” Loki asked, almost sounding casual.

Tony shrugged. “Not exactly. It’s complicated. You know, you’re a hard man to find.”

“You didn’t find me, Stark,” Loki pointed out.

“Let me take you to dinner.”

“What?” Loki blinked at him. He probably had not expected that kind of a response.

“I’d like to talk to you,” Tony replied, shrugging slightly. “It’s been a long time. I owe you an apology.”

Loki considered him for a moment, shifting the wine glass to his other hand before bringing it to his mouth. Tony knew he was watching his face as the gold band on Loki’s hand glinted in the light. Suddenly, the memory rushed up. Fenton. Amelia Fenton. For two years, Tony had been trying to remember that name.

“Perhaps another time,” Loki said, sitting the glass down. Twenty years later and Tony still perfectly understood the blandness of his tone: there wasn’t going to be another time.

“Bring Sif,” Tony said, words halting Loki at the door. The taller man turned to look at him, but Tony didn’t meet his eyes just yet. “I owe her an apology too, and it would be good to see her.” He looked up and stilled at the tightness around Loki’s mouth. Without a word, the man left.

Tony stood there in the penthouse for a long moment, trying to swallow around his suddenly tight throat. “Jarvis? Amelia Fenton,” he said softly.

“Amelia Fenton died in a car accident in London on November fifteenth, 1982.”

Tony lifted the glass to his mouth, forcing down another swallow of wine.

***  
Tony slowly paced his way through the cemetery, following the directions Jarvis had given him. He stopped in front of an elegant marble marker. The words were simple, not hinting at the pain they probably caused. Amelia Fenton. Beloved wife.

Tony sighed, pushing his sunglasses up his head. "Hey, Siffy," he said. He looked down at the bouquet in his hand, feeling a bit awkward. He hated death. Despite all he'd seen, he still wasn't good with it. "I didn't know what kind of flowers you liked. Oddly enough, it never really came up." He laid the yellow roses down then and. sighing, he sat at the foot of the grave.

"Don't mind me, not that you ever did. Personal space didn't always mean much to you." He looked around. It was freezing, but there really wasn't room to complain. "I'm not sure what you see in this country." Okay, so maybe there was a little room.

He turned back, swallowing past the strange lump in his throat. "We didn't part on the best of terms, which wasn't really fair for you. Ii just... I'm sorry," he said. "It's been a long time in coming, I know. I was out of line. I don't have an excuse, really. A lot of shit was going on at the time and I just couldn't get my head around it. I was fucking stupid and young. You didn't know it, hell even I didn't, but my father died the day before you joined us on the tour. I was a CEO and I didn't even know it." He peered off, squinting in the light.

"He still wears the ring," he continued. "I don't know if you know that he took your name. You were good for him, I guess. Certainly better than I could have been. And I just..." He looked back at the stone. "Thank you for making him happy."

Tony stood, brushing off his coat. "You know, it's weird having a conversation with you without being called daddy-o. So, look, I don't really know if there's an afterlife or what I believe, but if there is one, there's this guy. His name is Ho Yinsen. You should look him up. Guy's under this crazy impression that I'm a good man. I tried to tell him otherwise, but he didn't believe me. Maybe you can convince him."

"I doubt it."

Tony turned, startled. Loki stood there, so different from his bell bottoms, glam makeup, and Oxford shirts that is was a bit disorientating. He had a bouquet of starfire lilies in his hand. He walked up, gesturing. "She still considered you a friend, even when she thought you were a bloody wanker."

"I always thought she was nuts."

Tony mentally winced at the words, but Loki just chuckled and set the bouquet down. "I often thought so myself." He looked at Tony, studying him. "Who's Yinsen?"

Ah, crap. Tony looked away. "Hostage. He was there with me, in Libya. Saved my life more times than I can count. He thought I was a good man."

"Are you?" Loki asked.

Tony swallowed, staring hard at the stones. "Not yet," he finally said,turning back. "But I want to be." He held out a business card to Loki. "Look, I have no excuses. Just... Maybe we can talk."

Loki took the card, studying it. "I'm not sure I'm the right person for a good man to be around, Stark."

Tony didn't smile. "I am." He pushed his sunglasses back down, calling out over his shoulder as he left, "Later, Siffy."

Loki peered down at the card and sighed, before he set his hand on the tombstone. “Later, daddy-o,” he murmured for her.


End file.
